


Spaces

by RaeSone99



Category: NCIS
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:10:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeSone99/pseuds/RaeSone99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tentatively, a series of one shots about some of the spaces in Season 10, areas for my imagination to play in :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun kissed Adam’s eyelids gently waking him. Stretching, he slid his hand over to Ziva’s side of the bed, hoping to convince her to stay in for breakfast.

The sheets were cold.

Adam frowned, instantly alert; maybe she’d gone out for a snack ahead of him?

Hearing the rustling sheets a shadow appeared in his doorjamb.  Adam reached for the knife he kept under the mattress frame before the shadow stepped forward into the weak grey light of his room. It was Ziva, fully dressed, with gifts of coffee. She swept across the dark hardwood floors to perch on the edge of his bed.

Adam smiled, grateful for the coffee cup she passed him. Ziva waited until he’d swallowed down the too hot, too strong concoction she’d made him before speaking.

“I realized at the coffee shop that I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee,” humor flit across her lips, “Clearly I was wrong.”  On the surface she sounded lightly amused, but her tone left him feeling as though he’d failed some sort of test.

Adam pushed his back up against the cold headboard, lukewarm sunlight bathing his chest.

“Who drinks this poison?” he gagged, “What happened to three creams, three sugars?”

Ziva took a contemplative sip of her coffee, as if to show him how it was done before answering,  
“You’d be surprised. My partner…s at NCIS drink it as though it’s water.”

 _More like gasoline._ Adam thought, but he let the conversation drop. Clearly she was not here to stay any longer than she had to. Remembering the tacked on ‘s’ at the end of ‘partners’ he switched gears. He had an idea as to which partner she was referring to.

Rotating his coffee cup with his fingertips he took the opportunity to ask, as nonchalantly as possible,

“Who is Tony?”

Ziva’s eyes widened and Adam watched the emotions whirl behind her brown orbs. For a few moments confusion reigned supreme. She gave her head a tiny shake and Adam gave her a small smile.

“You murmured his name last night in your sleep. You sounded rather concerned.”

Understanding washed away the confusion and Ziva slid off the bed to walk to his dresser, talking all the while, “I do not remember what I dreamt, however I am not surprised I sounded concerned. Our job throws us into dangerous situations…often. Many of which involve being shot at.”

Adam admired the way Ziva’s blouse draped over her in the strengthening sunlight until a second question occurred to him.

“When you spoke to your Tony this morning, did he have any leads on the case?”

Ziva paused for a moment, under the pretense of looking more closely at a gray and blue striped dress shirt.

“I believe that was _three_ questions, Adam. He is not _mine_ , as of yet there are very few leads, and I did not speak to Tony this morning,” She folded the shirt, neatly placing it back in the drawer, “I do not want him to know I am here.”

Adam stared at his coffee cup, wondering if it would taste less like swill once it was cold.

“How would he know? And if you are not his why should he care?”

Ziva answered with a question.

“Did you know that “Children of Heaven” was filmed in Tehran?”

Confused Adam shrugged, “So? Tehran is a great city. It is not surprising that filmmakers agree.”

With an appreciative ‘ah’ Ziva tossed a black t-shirt his way.

“Indeed. However, that is the first thing Tony would say, right before asking,”

Ziva lowered her voice until it was husky, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the dresser surveying Adam as she played with a pen produced out of nowhere. Adam guessed she was imitating the mysterious Tony.

“I guess you dropped Schmiel off in Tel Aviv with your father’s body. What, may I ask, or _who,”_ she raised her eyebrows, “is in Tehran?” Ziva turned around with an annoyed huff and resumed her search through Adam’s things. He barely had time to get his hand up before an undershirt hurtled through the air towards his head.

Getting the hint Adam rolled out of bed and began getting dressed. The oak finish chilled the soles of his feet.

“I guess I’ll shower on the way,” he muttered.

Ziva responded with an affirmative grunt, tangled in her own thoughts. Adam padded across the room to his window to turn the blinds, shutting off a terrific view of the mountains.

“I did not think you had much patience for the jealous type, Ziva,” Adam teased. He opened the closet to snag a pair of jeans.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Ziva move from his dresser to the empty chair by the mirror, which faced him.

“Tony is just concerned. And since he is an agent, his concern expresses itself in rather pointed questions.” Ziva closed her eyes and sighed, “Besides I think my…desire…for revenge has him half believing that I would run through the streets of Tel Aviv, a machine gun in each hand, screaming for Bodnar to show himself so that I may shoot him!”

Adam shook his head, and hearing the doubt in his silence Ziva opened her eyes and with a smile he didn’t fully understand said, “He cares about me. He is simply concerned,” she repeated. The smile twisted into something that sent a chill down his spine and she added in a low voice, “Perhaps rightfully so.”

Unsure whether or not he was supposed to hear that last part Adam closed the closed door, fully dressed. He thought that one day he’d like to meet the man who made Ziva sound both wistful and irritated at the same time. Not because he’d become a fan -actually the opposite, Tony sounded much too invested in Ziva’s life for Adam’s liking- but because he was curious what sort of man Ziva allowed such free rein in her life, affairs, and, if last night’s slip up was anything to judge by, her heart. If Tony was so _concerned_ why had he let her fly to Israel alone? Why had he left her to deal with her father’s burial alone? Adam would never let any woman of his do something like this by herself; _especially with guys like himself, waiting in the wings._ But maybe that’s why she had never seriously considered him… Adam shook his head; even so, he would very much like to meet her Tony, and he told her so.

Ziva stood from her chair, swigged down some caffeine, (it wasn’t worth the name coffee if it tasted like his did), and strode out of his room. The word floated over her shoulder,

“Perhaps.”

Adam shook his head, the word introduced the possibility, but her attitude screamed, ‘not if I can help it.’ Grabbing his keys, he turned off the lights and followed her into the hallway. _Just who was she protecting?_

_\--------------------------------------  
_

With the exception of Ziva’s music, the car ride to the airport was quiet, something that seemed to make Ziva smile.

Adam was not smiling.

In fact he’d been in a continual state of silent prayer from the moment she’d squealed out of his apartment complex. He’d never be able to explain how she’d avoided hitting the flock of ducks crossing the street; all he knew was that for a moment, it felt like he was flying.

“Ziva! You’re not supposed to drive evasively _all_ the time! At this rate there will be _three_ funerals!”

“You sound just like Tony,” Ziva scoffed, “Besides, we _have_ to make this flight or else my Aunt Nettie will call demanding to know where I am, and _I” SWERVE_ “will blame you.”

“In that case I will blame _you_ for yammering on about your boyfriend this entire morning.”

Ziva rolled her eyes at him, “Won’t work. For some reason Aunt Nettie adores Tony. Yet to this day he refuses to admit he went behind my back and contacted her.”

The one part of his brain that wasn’t frozen in terror found it interesting that Ziva not only failed to correct Adam on his terminology, but also assumed he was referring to Tony.

In her righteous anger Ziva decelerated, distracted by Tony’s past transgression. Adam mouthed a silent ‘thank you’. He’d talk about Tony all day if it made her slow down. A speed bump was coming and if she didn’t brake-!

Adam bit back tears as his car fender scraped the pavement with gusto.

“He called her?” Adam finally managed.

Ziva shook her head, and leaned backwards, relieving more pressure from the gas pedal. The speedometer inched towards the left.

“I have no idea! I just know he must have used the DiNozzo charm,” she waggled her fingers, which made Adam’s stomach churn; “because every time _I_ call, she asks how _he_ is.”

For the first time the dial was closer to zero than one-twenty. Adam’s heart rate began to drop.

Irritated Ziva took a second to glance at Adam, “Why are you so interested in Tony anyway?”

Thankfully, the airport came into view.

“Oh, look at that. We’re at the airport,” he pointed out weakly.

Ziva’s eyes narrowed but she turned back to face the road, letting it go.

\------------------------------------------------------

“And you must be Tony!”

The much prettier, more gracious, female version of Eli David wrapped Adam in an expansive hug, robbing him of his breath.

“It’s nice to finally meeet yooou! Ziva mentions you constantly!”

Behind Aunt Nettie’s back Adam widened his eyes and rolled them towards Ziva, a plea for help clearly stamped across his face. Ziva cleared her throat, and had the grace to look embarrassed. Aunt Nettie paused her boa constrictor embrace to look at him from elbows length, never quite letting go.

“And so handsome too!” However, as she stared Adam in the face her warm smile faltered, “But I thought you had hazel eyes…and brown hair…”

Ziva cut in hastily.

“Actually, Aunt Nettie, this is Adam Eschel.” Seeing Nettie’s confusion she whispered through her teeth, “the old friend I told you about?”

A series of looks passed between the two women and Aunt Nettie released Adam instantly, her face suddenly prim and reserved.

“Ah, yes,” she squinted at Adam as though seeing him for the first time, “Jacob’s boy.”

The difference between twenty seconds ago and now was so marked that Adam was seized with the urge to apologize to the woman for whatever sin his father had committed against her.

There was an awkward pause as the only artic wind in the Middle East swirled between the three of them.

Finally, Aunt Nettie spun away towards her house, moving rather spryly for her age.

“Be sure you tip the cabbie, Adam, I wouldn’t want to get a reputation,” gone was the warmth and familiarity he’d enjoyed as an identity thief. In its place was the politeness extended to a stranger. Adam sighed.

  “Ziva?” Aunt Nettie sung her niece’s name, “How was the flight, dear?”

Wrapping her arm around the younger woman’s waist the two women swept down the stone path to the wrought iron gate and Nettie’s front door. Ziva glanced back once and gave Adam an apologetic look before Aunt Nettie reclaimed her ear.

“Shame what happened to Eli. But frankly I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Now don’t look like that, you knew the same man I did!”

Adam sighed again and tipped the laughing cab driver before trudging back up the way. _The things I do for friends._

_\--------------------------------------------------  
_

Ziva was in a rage and Adam couldn’t help but wonder whether he should hide or help.

“The nerve!” she seethed, “To say such things! My father isn’t even in the ground good yet and already they are speculating!”

Adam watched Ziva pace up and down the yard and refrained from reminding her that she’d done the same things not long before Eli’s death, but felt compelled to say something.

“Well, what with his lack of directions, and Orli taking charge unopposed it makes sense that she became the new head. After all they had a sort of understanding right?”

This, it seemed, was the exact wrong thing to say.

 Ziva stopped her pacing, all of her manic energy focusing in on him. Her eyes burned, her hair floated, her posture was stiff. She opened her mouth to deliver what was no doubt a death blow when a phone rang.

It was Ziva’s.

“Hello?” her tone was terse.

Ziva blinked and the energy seemed to drain down through her feet and back into the ground. Adam stared at her, amazed. She’d morphed into an entirely different woman before his eyes!

“The report? It’s on your desk.”

There was a pause.

“Well look again, because I definitely placed it on your desk. McGee saw me, he’ll back me up.”

Another pause; this time longer, but it seemed to bring the closest thing to a smile he’d seen for days to her lips.

“McClouseau? Do you think of these ahead of time?” She resumed pacing. But this time each step had the relaxed air of someone speaking with family.

“I am fine…okay then I was not fine, I was aggravated…No, save your money, there’s just been a bit of a power struggle over my father’s position, his old position. I’m not sure my father would approve of any of his successors.”

Ziva sighed; her pacing taking her over to where Adam sat on the steps. To his surprise Ziva rested her head on his shoulder. Their proximity allowed him to hear a male voice buzzing over the phone. Another pause and a chuckle burst through Ziva’s pressed lips.

“Now that I would like to see,” A different male voice in the background. Adam looked down at the top of Ziva’s head, feeling how her breathing was slowing down.

“No, I understand. Tell Abby I said hello, and McGee, and Gibbs!”

The original male voice hummed in her ear, and Ziva sighed a bit forlornly,

“Yes, me too. Good bye, I will see you soon.”

Ziva hung up the phone and stared out into space. Adam sensing that she’d forgotten her earlier wrath wrapped his arms around her gently.

She allowed him to comfort her for a minute or so before pulling away, standing up and tugging at his hand as she did so.

Adam stood a step below her, looking up into a pair of intense brown eyes.

With her free hand Ziva smoothed her hair back against her forehead, a nervous tick he hadn’t known she’d possessed. He waited patiently for her to speak.

“Tomorrow, I leave for DC and you head back undercover,” Ziva began. Adam nodded. This he’d expected. He’d already called his necessary contacts.

Her lips parted as if to say something else but no sound came out, so Adam finished the week the way they’d started: with a kiss. The kiss was much the same as before, soft and insistent, but the feeling was completely different. A week ago he’d thought, perhaps this would be the time he won her heart, but now he knew they’d grown apart too far. And more importantly she’d reserved that spot for someone else.

Adam opened his eyes and smiled at her confidently. She smiled back and he knew at least their friendship would survive.

“I’ll keep an eye out for Bodnar, an ear to the ground as well. You’ll be the first to know if I hear from that snake.”

Ziva nodded seriously.

Adam walked backwards down the stone path towards the gate, kissing Ziva’s cheek before he did so.

“I still want to meet your Tony.” Again she simply nodded, although her skepticism was clear. “And, tell Aunt Nettie I’ll be brushing up on my Mahjong skills, so she’ll have to be ready next time!”

Whistling for a cab he heard Ziva laugh and he smiled to himself before hopping inside the car.

_She’d be fine._


	2. The Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the mixed up files of evil-McGee's twin surfaces a transcript of the phone call between Questionables Two and Seven regarding Red Herring. In English? Tony calling Schmeil about Ziva because how else was he there in time?

_Oh it’s my phone. Quiet! Quiet! Hello?_

Yes, hello. Schmeil? This is Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo. We met a few weeks ago at NCIS. Went out to dinner with Ziva?

_Ah yes! Dinotso Jr! Tony. How are you? How is my Ziva?_

I’m doing fine sir. But I’m afraid the same can’t be said for Ziva…Eli…

_Yes, yes I heard. I imagine Ziva is taking it very hard. She loved her father dearly, despite their issues. What has she been saying?_

Well that’s the problem sir. She hasn’t been saying anything. I was hoping you could speak to her?

_Of course, of course Tony! Just hand her the phone and…_

Actually I was thinking more of an in person, heart to heart kind of chat.

_…I would love that however I’m currently out of town..._

I understand sir. Which is why as soon as you agree I’ll order you a first class roundtrip ticket out of Tel Aviv.

_First class roundtrip?_

Yes sir. And unlike my father I’ll even pay for it myself.

_…DiNozzo-_

She’s hurting, sir, and she won’t…I’m worried.

_…Alright, DiNozzo. I believe you. There’s just one thing. Wait! Make it two things! The first you may like, the other, maybe not so much._

Sir?

_Well, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I’m actually in New York, visiting friends, so your wallet can breathe a sigh of relief there. Two, after I speak with Ziva you two should maybe get some things out in the air. Normally I'd let nature run it's course but at this rate I fear I might not live long enough to make it to the wedding!_

Done. Flight leaves in two hours so if you leave now, I can email you the details and my address.

_Done? Just like that? Excellent. Your father said you were a man of action!_

Thank you sir.

_No. Thank you! Fellas I’m headed to DC so we’ll-_

**-END OF TRANSCRIPT-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, even if Tony'd chickened out Schmeil still would have been there :)


	3. Tony Laughed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Tony's inner monologue during a random movie night in the later seasons.

Tony laughed. And not like a suave laugh.

It was more of a choking bark really. It was neither graceful nor charming. It lacked sophistication and edge. It was a natural, caught by surprise honest laugh. Inwardly he flinched. He thought he’d gotten rid of those when he turned 13. The same year he’d figured out how to use his trivia knowledge to his advantage. The same year Courtney von Friesan had asked him out to the girl-guy dance. Sally Hawkins or something like that. That night he’d tried out his new, carefully practiced and perfected laugh on her. He’d timed it just right and everything. That night he’d gotten to first base and he had his new laugh to thank for that. He’d never gone back to au natural after that night. Even when something funny caught him off guard, the perfected carefully honed and crafted laugh was next to instinct. It had gotten him through and into a number of situations. Some better than others. If he hadn’t felt so anxious he would have smirked to himself but no.  There was nothing remotely funny about his current situation.

His palms began sweating as he stared straight ahead at the dancing figures on screen. Watching Fred and Ginger do their thing had been his idea but now he was really regretting the lack of loud explosions. Anything he could blame that aberration on. Anything to get Ziva’s laser beam eyes from burning a hole into his temple. Maybe she would let it go.  He couldn’t even remember what they were talking about, the cause of his uncouth barking. Maybe she didn’t notice and she was just admiring his hair. Maybe she hadn’t…

“What was _that_ Tony?”

Out the corner of his eye he could see the way her head tilted, how her soft dark hair rested on one shoulder exposing her neck, the deepening crease around her mouth as she smiled at him, bemused. His inner 13 year old raged at him. He’d blown it! She’d call him a fake! Mock him for using a perfect laugh all these years, slap him for being such a trivia nerd, and then laugh as her new secret boyfriend rolled him down the stairs in a trashcan!

Tony shuddered and reached for his soda, trying to shake off the bad flashback. He could say it was a cough but she would know if he lied to her; she could always tell. Had been able to since the first moment they met. But maybe their ‘post elevator us baring our souls us’ policy included, in the words of Terry Truehorn from 9th grade, “seal barking”.

For her part, Ziva, perhaps sensing that she’d stumbled upon a sensitive spot, waited patiently for an answer.

And it was that very patience that silenced the impatient acne ridden, hyper aware, fifteen year old. He was a grown man and high school was a long way in the past. More importantly, curled up beside him was the woman who had allowed him to see her weeping for her abba, who for a brief moment in twilight trusted him to comfort her after a sweaty nightmare, the one who easily listed him as her emergency contact but struggled to call him friend. She was his partner and the least he could do was be honest with her now.

Still, decades of suppression made his tongue a little thick.

“It was a laugh. What you said was funny,” he still couldn’t meet her eye. Instead, he watched her with his peripheral vision.

Ziva raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to Fred and Ginger dancing their way around and with each other. There was a second of silence and then, almost shyly Ziva murmured,

“You should laugh like that more often.”

This time it was Tony’s turn to gape at her while she fixated on the waltzing pixels. 

_You should laugh like that more often._

An amazed smile spread across his face. If he didn't know better he'd say, in the words of his past self, she maybe  _like_ liked him.

"Stop staring, Tony," Ziva murmured. 

"Yes ma'am." 

Tony made an over the top show of watching the TV screen. Silence reigned for the next few moments but it was a comfortable silence and Tony was unsurprised when Ziva inched over and curled up in his side, her hair brushing his jawline as she rested her head on his shoulder. 

Idly playing with the ends of her hair he smiled to himself.  He could watch them dance with forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the penultimate chapter :/ Life is catching up with me and I can't spend as much time as I would like writing fics, something I realized over the past update-less weeks. Apologies for that but I hope you enjoy these last two chapters!


	4. The Car Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter! Thanks for coming along with me for the ride :) (get it? because the chapter is called the car? *sigh*)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the love! I hope you enjoy!

“What’s your biggest fear?”

Tony readjusted his sunglasses and the car retained smoothness throughout, as though he’d never moved, a power Ziva envied.

“You know my biggest fear: children. Watched a rerun of Dr.Who the other day with kids walking around in a gas masks calling out for their ‘mommy’ didn’t sleep well for a week.” He shuddered.

Ziva shook her head. Yes, she had known, but she’d hoped watching Vance’s kids had changed that. Despite his initial hesitancy he’d seemed fine. He’d certainly retained the presence of mind to throw that cheap shot as he ran past her after Vance’s kids…something he still claimed not to remember.

“Okay then. Second biggest fear?”

His left pinky twitched; the beginning of a finger roll that he self-censored knowing full well she’d be watching him for any tell. This is why she ignored it. She wasn’t reclining in her seat just because she was tired. The angle allowed her a perfect view of his eyes behind the shades, the perfect view of the skin tightening around his right eye.

 _Sometimes seven years of partnership came in handy for things besides knowing how best to annoy each other,_ she thought ruefully.

Turning his head away from the road Tony faced her. The glare off of his shades made her blink.

 “Why are you suddenly so interested in my fears? You do realize that I’m going to throw the question right back at you, right?”

_And sometimes it was just annoying._

“And I am perfectly fine if you do. I have faced my fears already. Admitting them won’t hurt now,” Ziva shrugged, forcing her body to relax.

It was a bluff. Something he’d immediately pick up on. She wondered why they were playing this game. It was like watching the Finals. Sure there were technically six previous games but in the end only the seventh mattered. Likewise some days she just wanted to skip the banter and talk about the things that really needed talking about.

Tony stared at her for a long second; unrelenting, unreachable, and unfathomable behind his sunglasses. Ziva focused on her breathing.

_In one two, Out one two._

He turned back to face the road. The car still registered no change.

“How about this?” Tony’s voice was low, and slightly rough. It was inappropriate for a coworker, and too intimate for a friend but just right for the nether regions they thrived in.

 “I’ll answer your question, if you’ll answer it as well.”  Somehow the word ‘honestly’ was the loudest of all in his proposal.

Ziva pulled the lever at the side of her chair so that she could sit straight. His answer made her heart heart hammer, destroying whatever fringe relaxation she’d been experiencing a moment ago. His tone, on the other hand, made her question her eagerness. Still _she’d_ been the one to ask.

“Okay, I agree, with one change.”

He frowned, clearly thinking she was going to have him jump through some hoop. Or do something else that was fantastically unnecessary. Ziva ran her hand through her hair, shaking the straight mass through her fingers out of sheer habit.

“We each say what it is and then we explain after both of us have spoken. That means no questions or response until we’ve both said something. Got it?”

Tony raised three fingers off of the wheel, which she interpreted as understanding.

Ziva narrowed her eyes; something was up, if only she could figure out what. Everything had been fine up until she’d tried to bluff him, which brought on The Stare, and then-

“So, you go first,” he interrupted her chain of thought.

Indignation swept through her like a forest fire.

“What? I’m not going first! I asked the question. You go first!”

Something about her response made him smile- a tiny smile but a smile nonetheless.

 _He has a beautiful mouth._ Ziva wondered if it still counted as an errant thought if it reoccurred often. _Of course it does! Besides there is no harm in giving compliment where compliment is due, and it’s not like she told_ him _so._

Another voice whispered, _‘I’m afraid my dear, that it does not count as errant if you can also categorize it as ‘often’. Perhaps we should discuss your deep feelings for Tony tonight over tea?’_

The Tony in question cleared his throat and Ziva quickly blinked away imaginary Ducky. Maybe she’d take a nap during her break after all. One of the last things she needed was another voice in her head. Her own was quite enough, thank you.

Tony’s lips curved and Ziva realized she’d never looked away from his mouth. She quickly did so but it was too late.

“See something you like?”

“Yes, an answer to my question.”

The smirk dropped off of his face and Ziva couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe games one through six weren’t completely useless after all. Locking her fingers she waited patiently.

“Being stuck.”

Ziva kept waiting patiently. But no further explanation came.

_Right._

Despite her earlier bravado her mouth felt dry and her previously chatty mind was at a loss for words.

Pulling up to a red light Tony stared at her expectantly but words failed her as she stared at her pale reflection in his glasses. Sunglasses that made her feel as though he was watching from the interrogation room; as though he wasn’t fully with her in the car now. Gently reaching up she slid the shades off of his face and held them in between their chests. Her fingertips tingled from grazing his cheek bones. His pupils contracted but he didn’t protest.

“That’s better,” she murmured, “Going back to Israel.”

 A horn blared behind them. In a quick motion, without looking, Tony jabbed the emergency blinkers. A part of her worried about getting hit again but after actually getting hit she found she wasn’t as worried as she should have been.

“Explain,” he encouraged.

Ziva looked away for a moment to the outside traffic. How to explain to him how her entire world, in less than a decade, had been turned inside out? Tali, Ari, her mother, and now her father: gone. She, herself, had left Mossad and become an American citizen. Even Orli, long the family villain, was not the sociopath Ziva’s younger self believed Orli to be. She wasn’t sure but she’d try and hope their bond picked up what she didn’t say.

“After I buried my father in Israel I handled his estate, which required quite a lot of stops and visits. But with each new day and old friend I felt more and more like a stranger...like...”

"Like you were just going through the motions?"

Ziva faced Tony gratefully, 

"Exactly! What's worse is that the people who knew me best..." Ziva looked down at her hands at his shades, allowing the drone of traffic to lull her into the rest of her admission, "The people who knew me best didn't like the changes they saw. I felt like I was acting as my past self. Which sounds, crazy, I know, but it's the best way I know to explain it!" She blew out a frustrated breath.

Tony smiled at her grimly, "It's not crazy. I know exactly what you mean. It's like you get stuck in a rut of other people's expectations, and you can't get out."

Ziva nodded. Of course he understood. She wasn't sure if she'd told McGee or Abby, that they would have. Or worse, they would have given her suggestions on how to make it better. But not Tony. He simply understood her. Ziva's stomach twisted, not unpleasantly. Moments like these made her thankful for him. 

A drop of ice slid down her spine. What if she lost him? Gibbs' newest scheme was dangerous and layered, hinging on his gut as usual-nothing new. But it also relied on each member of the team being willing to endanger the other members. Ziva's eyes memorized Tony's face- the creases around his eyes that betrayed his emotions, the wobble in his nose that he had coming for being a smart mouth, the dip above his upper lip, even the shaggy new haircut he was trying out. Was she really prepared to sacrifice any part of him for someone else?

Tony raised an eyebrow at her and she turned away to stare out the window in order to hide her misgivings.

They sat in silence for a few seconds until she felt a large careful hand settle onto her shoulder. Ziva took a deep breath, inhaling his spicy cologne.  It wasn't her favorite scent of his, but she could get used to it. Ziva turned around to face Tony, a part of her desperately wishing they hadn't had this conversation so that she wouldn't know just how much she needed him.  He met her eyes for a long moment. She wondered what he saw. 

Tony gave her a sad smile and murmured,

"I know."

Understanding crashed down around her ears. No wonder he'd been so...hesitant...earlier. He'd already known what she'd just realized. Anger surged through her veins at their situation, and she jabbed the 'emergensy blinkers' button. Following her lead, Tony eased onto the gas. 

"There's a gelato place around the corner...maybe we could grab some before we head over to Tim's? I know I heard Palmer mention that he was craving something cold..."

Ziva whipped around to face him, astonished that he could go back to being so casual after their conversation. What she saw stopped the astonishement cold. His shoulders were stiff, his eyes squinted into the sunlight, and his hands were gripping the wheel. Internally Ziva sighed. He wasn't casual, he was hurt, and trying to move past the situation. In her head she rememered his fear, ' _Being Stuck'._

She smiled at him gently, "Tony?"

He turned his head to face her, his lips pressed together. 

"I'd like that."

He grinned at her, "Wait till you get there! They've got the best flavors. Vanilla so creamy even Fornell would like it."

Ziva scoffed, easily falling back into their pattern of light heartedness, "Fornell? Fornell hates vanilla. And he certainly wouldn't admit it even if he did like it."

She handed Tony back his shades, and he replaced them with practiced ease before turning to smile at her. 

Her answering smile didn't quite reach her eyes, but he seemed to appreciate that they were trying.  Ziva thought about his fear for a second and took initiative to quell it before her new one was realized.

"Maybe we could get something later, too?"

Tony nodded as he drove on,

"Maybe."

And his maybe sounded like 'yes.'

 

 


End file.
